The Journey (3 page)

Isn’t it strange? —the gift of scent. I have forgotten a thousand faces I’ve passed on the street, mentally deleted hundreds of names I had once known, but a tiny whiff of strong coffee and fresh bread will
always
wing my mind back to the cobbled streets of Paris. The same way clay mud and pine needles brought childhood fishing trips to mind. Smell—it is the most powerful memory I have.

I knew we were close to wherever I was being led. The unmistakable scent of a burning wood fire and people-sweat wafted on the breeze. I couldn’t help but crinkle up my nose. The smell reminded me of hot August vacations in Disneyland. Florida is never hotter or muggier than it is that time of the year. You can almost set your watch to the daily 4:00pm torrential downpour. Spending all day in the burning sun, running from one ride to the next. All it took was that fifteen-minute mini cloudburst to wet all the happy park-goers’ clothes just enough to make them reek of the sickening sweet sweat their event-filled day had blessed them with. It still makes me gag.

I knew wherever this man was leading me now, there was a big fireplace and lots of working men who’d been caught out in the rain. Still… I followed him. What else could I do? At the very least, I needed to know where I was and just exactly how I’d come to be there.

My silent guide had already made it inside the Inn by the time I trudged up to the entrance. I slowly open the creaky wooden door, just enough to get a good peek inside. The man behind the bar never even looked up at me, he simply pointed toward the far left corner of the large room. I pushed the door open a little further, just in time to see the bottom of that dark cloak and wet leather boots disappearing up the barrow wooden stairs.

I cautiously followed him. No one seemed to care. Not a single patron turned to look my way. For that, I was strangely thankful.

I didn’t have to guess which door I was supposed to enter. The oddly familiar scent of my mysterious rescuer lingered thick around the second one on the right. It wasn’t fully closed, so I didn’t bother with the tarnished old knob—just placed my hands against the splintering wood and gave it a tiny push.

The room was empty. I stepped back and looked down the length of the unpainted corridor, and then back the way I’d come.

It was deserted, save me.

That instinctual
gut-feeling
was gnawing at me, screaming clearly…
This is it. This is where you are meant to be.

I stepped inside.

The place was old, but clean. The antique poster bed boasted crisp white linens, and the velvety green upholstered couch took on the faint glow of the dimly lit fireplace.

I smiled. I couldn’t help myself. This empty old room didn’t feel empty at all. It held a comforting warmness—lingering joy from days gone by. The genuine laughter of the many travelers who had slept within these four walls had soaked into the bare wood, seeped inside every grain, every splinter. This place felt like a home, a happy home.

I caught his enchanting scent only a heartbeat before the door closed behind me, the latch popping loudly when the tarnished old metal slid inside the lock.

“Warm yourself by the fire,” was all he said.

I turned toward him, but was met with a ruffling of billowing dark material floating on the air… as he elegantly spun his sodden cloak from his shoulders and then left it on a hook beside the door. The sight left a smile upon my face. It pulled to mind stories of olden times, long since forgotten.

The sudden warmth of his large hands upon my shoulders was gentle and comforting.

“May I?”

I didn’t even catch his meaning until I felt the heavy material draped across my shoulders slowly slide away.

A cloak? But… when did I…

Glancing down at my drenched form, I only just realized I was dressed much as the stranger was—knee boots, black pants, a grey t-shirt tucked in neatly at the waist, and a long black scarf.

“When did I come by these clothes?”

I asked the question aloud, yes, but it was only truly meant for myself.

“You would have chilled to the bone—had I left you as you were. A short cotton dress and bare feet would have drawn a bit too much attention in Kilcoole. Especially in
this
weather.”

I turned to look at him then. “So… you chose to dress me exactly like you?”

He glanced down and then back up, confusion creasing his handsome brow. “What? What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

“Nothing. It suits
you
perfectly. Not
my
normal style, though.”

“Like I said before, you would freeze to death here… in that skimpy little dress.” He mumbled that last part.

“It wasn’t skimpy. It was just a regular dress, came nearly to my knees.”

“Pfft.” Was the only response I got.

“And where
is
here?”

“Like I told you, Kilcoole.”

“Yes… and just where
is
Kilcoole?”

“Just above Wicklow.”

I almost rolled my eyes. “Well, that’s nice to know. And Wicklow is?”

He furrowed his brow again. “What do you mean?”

I sighed, loudly. “How about this. What’s the nearest major city?”

“Eh… I guess we’re about twenty-five, twenty-six kilometers south of Dublin. If you don’t stand closer to the fire, you’ll never dry out.”

But how could I move? I believe I had been going along with this whole bizarre thing like it was a dream, but the shock of this unbelievable madness was fast wearing off. I
did
start to chill then, tremble even.

“Du-Dublin? As in… Ireland?”

“Do you know of another Dublin?”

“B-but I was only… only just in Tibet… talking to Brother Gopal.”

“You weren’t in Tibet. You were in Bhutan. Brother Gopal is at Taktsang, the Tiger’s Nest Monastery. Remember?”

When I didn’t immediately answer, the man smiled and said, “I know how much you like history. Let’s see if I can steady that racing mind of yours. Hmm… Where did Buddhism get its start?”

“Buddhism? Umm… In Bhutan.”

“
Where
in Bhutan?”

“In Rinpoche’s cave… the Tiger’s Nest Monastery.”

When he smiled again, I started to relax a little.

“Yeah… That’s right.” I stumbled over to the pretty green couch. My knees felt weak. “I’d already left Tibet,” I mumbled softly. “How did I forget that?”

The stranger began to stoke the little fire, bringing real warmth into the room. Soon, I felt the welcome flames dancing softly across my icy cheeks.

“Hey… How do you know the legend of Guru Rinpoche?”

He sort of snorted out a laugh but didn’t turn to face me as he added more wood to the now cozy fire. “Is that
really
the next question you should be asking?”

I made a face behind his back. “No.” I rolled my eyes. “How did you dress me without me even knowing it?”

He turned to look at me then, his jaw almost dropping open. “Seriously? You’d rather hear about your new wardrobe? Not the part about how you popped up on the other side of the globe?”

“I popped up here because you snatched my wrist and pulled me here.”

He moved closer, gently touching my knee as he spoke. “Yes, and where did I pull you
from
?”

His smile grew as my eyes widened.

That’s right. Where
was
I, anyway? And… how did I get there.

“Have you figured it out yet?”

His soft words pulled my blurry vision back into focus. He smiled. Wow… What a beautiful, gentle smile.

And… so familiar…

“No,” I whispered. “My mind is like a bowl full of scrambled eggs… all jumbled up.”

“That’s just the residual effect of traveling through the Nether. It’ll pass. Soon… you’ll barely even notice it at all.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning… the subsequent trips through won’t mess you up as badly. Pretty soon, you’ll step right through without another thought. First-timers always get a bit messed up—queasy. In truth, I was surprised you didn’t throw-up on me.”

“…Throw-up on you?” My voice sounded soft and distant in my own ears. “Does that usually happen?”

“Pretty much. Well, with the newbies it does. Some get over it quicker than others. But normally everyone coughs and gags and gasps for air.” He lightly yanked on my hair. “Not you.” He chuckled. “One deep inhale and it was all over. How’d you manage that?”

“I don’t know.” I paused, staring into the crackling flames. “The smell… I was holding my breath because of the smell.”

He slowly nodded. “Yeah. I’m afraid you’ll
never
get used to that part. I haven’t.”

“No,” I whispered. “I can’t imagine anyone who could.”

I felt the weight of the towel before I even realized he had draped it over my sodden curls.

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” He motioned with a nod. “You don’t need to go to bed with wet hair.”

“To bed? You mean… we’re
sleeping
here?”

He chuckled. “Nah. They just let any old body traipse in here and help themselves to the fire and linens. Yeah, Ladybug, we’re
sleeping
here. It’s too late in the day now. Besides, I don’t like walking about in the rain if I don’t have to.”

“…Ladybug?” Something about the way he said that struck a chord deep inside me.

“Or… would you prefer I call you Pooh?”

I looked to him then, frantically searching his sparkling blue eyes.

“But… how did you… Who… Who
are
you?”

He didn’t answer me, only held my questioning gaze, smiling softly.

The burning in my eyes was simultaneous with the sudden painful recognition.

“…Drella? Drella Walker? Is it really you? But…
how
? How can you be here?”

He scooted closer and wrapped his arm around my shoulders. “You have no idea how happy it makes me… to know you still remember me. After all these years… I feared you had long since forgotten about me, Ladybug.”

“
Forgotten
about you?” I felt the hot tears spilling down from my unblinking eyes. “How could I ever forget about
you
, Drella? The only guy who ever made my breath hitch… the only one I never wanted to forget, never wanted to lose.”

“Shhh, now.” He wiped my wet cheeks. “No tears. Okay?”

“How can you say, no tears? I’ve done nothing
but
cry… every single time you crossed my mind these last twenty-three years. You left me, Drella. The same day of our long-awaited, very first date… you left me… you
died
.”

“Well now, I didn’t do it on purpose, Pooh. You
had
to know that. I would never have left you. Given the choice, we would have been married that summer. While our graduation caps were still floating through the air, I would have slipped a ring on this lovely little finger.”

If it was all just a dream, I didn’t want to ever wake up. This man sitting beside me now was the love of my life. No man had ever turned my head like Drella had.

I’ll never forget the day we first met…

It was my senior year of college. Mom and Dad had sent me a credit card for
emergency
expenses
. You know, the regular
just in case the car breaks down
type of thing. When they received the bill… well, let’s just say, there were no car parts stores at the local mall. Needless to say, I got a quick phone call from my dad explaining how I needed to get a job and learn some responsibility. So, I did. I was a fulltime student and now a part-time attendant at the local Shell gas station near campus. That’s when I met Drella.

I will never forget the first time he walked in. He had filled his truck up with gas and came in to pay with his mother’s credit card. Now, I didn’t know that at the time, mind you. And being a rather new employee, the
rules
were still fresh in my mind. This was back before card-slides and instant authorization. We had to place the credit card on a little metal thing, lay a carbon receipt form on top of it, and then manually shove a little press to one end and back again. This gave you lots of time with the card, physically checking it out.

I was nervous because my boss was standing over my shoulder. He was a good guy, but who wants to mess up in front of their boss? When the carbon copied name showed up on the paper, I finally looked up to the boy who had handed it to me. He didn’t look
anything
like a Betty to me. His blue eyes were just sparkling, and that wavy blond hair made my stomach do a little flip.

I just kept staring at him, unsure what to do. Then, he smiled. Sweet heavens it was glorious, a smile that reached all the way up to his breathtaking eyes. I melted. So instead of asking him about the name, I simply slid him the receipt to sign. While his head was bowed, I wiped my chin, checking for the drool I knew
had
to be there.